OK, so I've dealt with my depression and I will try not to bring anyone down, from here on. Or at least until I get the blues again. Which will probably be a couple of days from now.
 That reminds me. Jon took me to see Buddy Guy and Johnny Lang In Dallas this weekend. I can not find the words to express just how talented these guys are. I was completely blown away by Johnny Lang, and then, Buddy Guy played and I was, well, slain! He is 75 years old and has more energy on stage than anyone I have ever seen, And what a phenomenal talent. Like I said, there are no words, but Guitar God comes to mind.
 Johnny Lang is so.....I don't know. What is it, girls, about a handsome young man and an electric guitar? I only know, here at fifty blah blah years old, the feeling never goes away.

The New Normal

  I spent the day trying to feel normal again. I worked in the yard, floated in the pool, played with the dogs, and broke down and cried every time I found myself alone.
 Recently someone who had lost a pet said it was like losing a child. I thought to myself, no it's not. Now I can say, It's not quite as bad. The one thing that makes it worse is, everyone, including yourself, expects you to get over it and move on.
  I feel guilty for all the things I didn't do for Darnell. I hate that I didn't realize he was sick sooner. The day i drove him to the vet, he sat in his seat, looking out the window, so happy. Darnell always loved riding in the car. I should have taken him for more rides.
  Now, when I look out my kitchen window, he is not in the yard playing. When I sit on the swing, he doesn't climb in my lap. He is not there to rock with me, his head on my chest, sad dachshund eyes looking up at me, with love and gratitude.
  The night after Darnell died, we went out to dinner. I was not hungry and could barely choke any thing down. The waitress brought Jon this huge plate of everything greasy and fried, that he should not eat. Suddenly, I had a bit of a panic attack and thought, soon, I will be completely alone. everyone and everything, I love will die and leave me alone on this planet.
  Is fear my new normal?

 Darnell is gone.
  I spent this week running back and forth to the vet, waking up at all hours and praying, praying, praying. Last night the vet said he was well enough to come home, but he was still so sick. I gave him his antibiotics and held him and prayed for him. I woke up early and checked on him. Seemed better. I gave him his medicine. When I was leaving for work, I checked on him and he had moved off his bed to the floor. I figured the floor was cooler. I couldn't wait to go home for lunch and see him. When I walked in, he was still in the same place on the floor. I guess he must have died right after I left for work.
 I can't stop crying. I missed him so much while he was in the hospital and now he is gone forever.

 He had the most lovable personality I had ever seen in a dog. He was truly unique. I'll never forget him. I'll miss him forever.

 Well, when I get down, I try to get back up again before I write too many post. No one wants to read this sad, mournful crap for too long, so I'm sorry but, here's one more.
 My dog is sick. My sweet little Darnell is in the hospital with pneumonia. He is critical and the vet isn't giving me much hope.
 I know, the non dog lovers in the world will not see the seriousness of this. But, I love that little dog so much.

 I saw Darnell's picture in the paper one Sunday. He was the pet of the week from the animal shelter. For some reason, I just knew he was supposed to be my dog. So I adopted him. That was six years ago, and he has been such a sweet little companion. I remember they told me he had been dropped off with another little puppy, and he was so sick, he almost died. His little friend didn't make it.
 Adopting Darnell was last thing Lauren and I did together. There were days after she died, when I didn't want to face another day. But I always knew I had to take care of Darnell. He needed me and that kind of kept me going.
 If you pray, please pray for Darnell.
 

It will be Alright In The end

  My last day with Lauren, was six years ago, today.
  It was a really fun time, I don't think I could ever forget. Jon's 50th birthday was on the 6th, 06-06-06! So, of course we had to have a surprise party for him. But, his birthday was on a Tuesday, I think, so we had it on Saturday.
 We spent the day getting things ready and annoying him. He always said Lauren and I could laugh for hours about nothing. This day it was especially annoying because he thought we were ignoring him, when all the while we were doing things for his surprise party. And he was very surprised. He said, about the whole 666 thing, if he had known being the Anti-Christ paid so little, he would have worked for the phone company instead. Which was funny because, he worked for AT&T for 32 years. I guess you had to be there.
 Anyway, Lauren and I had a great day. I remember we were at the supermarket and they were handing out ice cream sandwiches to promote the upcoming Moo Fest. It was very hot and I was trying to drive with a melting ice cream treat in my hand. We joked about how embarrassing it would be to be killed in a wreck eating ice cream.
 She was having a bad backache, and before she left school, she had tried to give blood, but they said she was severely anemic. The next morning we were on the front porch and I was hugging her goodbye, and begging her to stay one more day and see her doctor. I can still feel my arms around her, but, I also can feel her wet, feverish head leaning against me when she was two. Some things stay with you forever. Next thing I knew, she was saying, "Mom, I'll be home in two weeks".
  Two weeks from then, was Father's Day, just like it will be this year. The next two weeks will be hard, but I will make it.
 Today, we didn't feel like pretending we were OK, so we skipped church. Instead we went out to breakfast and then a movie. The movie we saw was, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It was good, set in India with a lot of veteran actors like Judi Dench, Tom Wilkinson, Maggie Smith and Bill Nighy. Something one of the young actors kept saying was, "It will be alright in the end. And if it's not alright, it's not the end."
 I really liked that. I know some people think, after six years, I should be alright. But, I'm not alright. Lauren was my baby. She left a big ol' empty whole in my heart when she died.
 I'm not alright, so it must not be the end.

A Hand-me-down Table

 When Jon and I married, in 1979, we were given an old dinning room set. The table and chairs had been a gift to his grandparents, some 60 years earlier on their wedding day. It was worn and had been antiqued green at some point in it's history, but still, I loved it. We thought we could use it until we were able to buy a new one someday. Someday never came and we raised three children around that table. We were a family who had meals together, at least once a day. As our children grew, we saw their personalities develop, interest bloom and important decisions made at the dinner table.
  Eventually, we refinished the table and bought new chairs. We moved it all over the panhandle, until we landed in, what I thought would be our permanent home in the country.
 Besides great meals, the table saw hours upon hours of homework and hobbies.  I used it's surface a hundred times, cutting out patterns and cloth for the dresses my girls would wear. It heard the teary confessions from close friends and family, as well as tall tales and laughter. A million I love you's were said over that table.
  In the days after my daughter died, our house was full of loved ones, family and friends. I remember looking at the faces of my brothers around the table, as they struggled to offer comfort in the midst of their own pain. I saw Lauren's friends gathered for a meal around it, needing each other's company, as well as mine.
 A month later, Eric and Sarah were home for a family wedding. We sat around the table eating and trying not to look at Lauren's empty chair. It was just too hard for me to take, so when we moved to town, I convinced Jon we needed a new table.
 Now, the old, drop leaf table sits, covered in the barn. We drag it out, when needed, and use it in the greenhouse or backyard for family reunions and parties. People still sit around it, telling their tall tales of golf and fishing. The sadness has left their faces and everything seems normal again.
 I still have an ache in my heart when I see the old table, but I am so thankful for the memories. I look forward to the day I see grandchildren with koolaide smiles and wet bathing suits gathered around it for a birthday party.
 Father's day is coming up. I think it's time to call my brothers and dad, drag the table out of the barn, burn some burgers and listen to some old stories.